


Growth on Empty

by decidueye



Series: zodiac (sit outside my door) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bunny Bokuto, Dragon Akaashi, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Other, Slow Burn, Zodiac AU, i think this series deserves that tag now, this au calms me i hope it can you!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 23:31:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/pseuds/decidueye
Summary: Spring comes, and Bokuto finds himself a project. Akaashi has no idea what he's doing as the afternoon gets longer, but they're willing to wait.





	Growth on Empty

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really happy to be continuing this au; it's really important to me. thank you to ginny for the friendship and the inspiration, and to robin and maëlle for the beta!

Bokuto’s energy shoots up with the violets as spring blossoms, and whilst Keiji had been expecting it, they still aren’t prepared. His endless chatter becomes more buoyant and full of song, and it seems there isn’t a single place within the grounds of their shrine they can go without tripping over the carnage of Bokuto’s restlessness.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to travel?” Keiji asks, sweeping up the dirt Bokuto has tracked in from the riverbank. “I’d hate for you to be staying here out of some misinformed obligation.” 

Keiji would hate for their own need of his presence to be so obvious, too. Even with his newfound dynamism, which overwhelms their senses and leaves them gasping for breath, the thought of him leaving is difficult to bear. They would manage - they always have, after all - but it would be a life without colour, and that’s not something they want to go back to.

Bokuto shakes his head rapidly, and Keiji’s sigh is just as much one of relief as it is of despair at the muddy droplets that fall from his ears.

“Of course, Akaashi! The whole time I was looking for a home. Sure, I get bored, but I’m not turning my back on you now.”

Bokuto has no idea of the strength of his words. He can say the most powerful things as cheerfully as he might remark on the weather, and it never fails to catch Keiji off guard. Their face warms, tail lashing out behind them as they focus on cleaning.

“I’ve just got to find an outlet, that’s all. The forest I was in charge of was  _ huge _ \- hey, have you ever thought about expanding your territory?”

“I don’t have the strength for that.”

“I do!”

“Physically, perhaps, but not spiritually,” Keiji says with a snort, shaking their head lightly. Whilst Bokuto is strong for a rabbit, the difference in their forms is impossible to ignore, and Keiji wonders at how Bokuto can play at picking them up, flexing confidently when they stand a whole head taller than him - including his ears. He pouts, thumping at the tatami floor, and Keiji winces; it’s going to be a headache to clean, even with magic.

“You’re a  _ dragon _ , Keiji, you can’t tell me that you don’t have any spiritual power.”

Keiji shrugs. They bend to examine the tatami and with a sweep of their hand Bokuto’s footprint is wiped clean. Inside its chest, their pearl shudders.

“I used to be stronger. So did you...that time has past. I maintain my - our home, and I cleanse the river. That’s all.”

“But it shouldn’t be! You do so much for the people...they used to worship you, can’t you -”

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji says darkly, and Bokuto quiets so quickly that they feel guilty. They sit with their legs folded in front of them, sighing out. “I’m tired. What’s for dinner?”  

“Lizard soup.”

Keiji is sure that the expression on their face has once lulled eighty humans into silence, but Bokuto merely laughs. If a season of cohabitation has diminished their intimidation capabilities, then they really are out of shape.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time for that gag ever since you played it on me.” Bokuto’s smug grin makes Keiji growl, but even that isn’t enough to dampen the pride radiating from him. It would be adorable if they weren’t trying to be annoyed. “Revenge is  _ so _ sweet, Akaashi.”

“ _ You’re _ so -” Akaashi begins, then catches themself, abruptly aware of the childish - and ineffective - nature of their retort. What has Bokuto reduced them to? “I’m hungry.”

“I’ve got it,  _ master _ ,” Bokuto teases. “Madame? Which would you prefer?”

“Neither.”

“Your highness it is, then.” Bokuto’s eyes gleam with all the mischief of his rabbit nature, ears twitching upright on his head, and when Keiji shakes their head, they know that their smile is still visible. He sings as he moves to the hearth, and Keiji sits still, drawn to his every movement as he cooks for them both. Even when focused, there isn’t a moment when he isn’t in motion: his teeth grind, purring as he chops; his tail shivers when he leans forward to smell the stew; and his nose wriggles when he gets excited, a sure sign that they’re going to eat well tonight. Keiji is tired by merely watching him, and they’re not sure if that’s from empathy or the sheer magnitude of the attention Bokuto demands with his movements. Their tongue tests the point of their teeth, and they realise that what they’re feeling is the kind of reverence that the villagers used to regard Keiji themself with. Bokuto isn’t the only other spirit they’ve met, but for the first time ever they feel as though they’re in the presence of someone divine.

It isn’t cold enough for Keiji to invite Bokuto to their bed anymore, and they hadn’t had the courage to do so since the first time, but their blanket feels light on them as they settle that night, and Bokuto’s snoring from the kotatsu is too far away to lull them to sleep. They stare at the wooden beams of their room for what feels like hours, small inside their house that seems too large and too cramped all at once, eventually sleeping fitfully with their arms wrapped tightly around their pillow.

*

Three mornings later, Bokuto is gone. It takes a long time for Keiji to realise; the silence in their home is deafening, but they assume that he has beaten them down to the river. When he isn’t there, they cleanse it themself and make their way around their territory in the valley, searching. It’s more than they’ve walked in years, and the break in their routine sits uncomfortably in their chest, squashed beneath their growing anxiety as Bokuto is nowhere to be found. When their legs tire they allow themself to rest in the grass, frowning at the rainclouds that form above them.

“He’s going to get wet,” they murmur. Since Bokuto arrived they have been talking to themselves more often - but it’s strange to do so without hearing a reply. Despite the turbulence in their gut, they are sure that Bokuto will return, and not just because none of his belongings are missing beyond his shoes. They’re a pair now, and Keiji had no doubts in their mind when Bokuto had told them their valley was his home. It’s just the waiting that they’re not prepared to deal with.

When Bokuto returns it is almost dark, and Keiji has done nothing but prepare two bowls of rice and vegetables. The door crashes open, resounding like a gong, and Keiji moves with light steps to place their meals on the kotatsu.

“Dinner’s ready,” they say, and Bokuto stops still, blinking twice before stumbling forward, excuses falling clumsily from his lips.

“I was gonna say something before I left, but you were asleep and I didn’t want to go in your room - I didn’t think I’d be that long anyway, but I got distracted - besides, you know this area so well, I -”

“Bokuto,” Keiji raises their hand and Bokuto tails off, chewing on his lip as he sits down. “I’m not angry. Eat.”

Bokuto is ravenous, and the fear of Keiji’s disapproval doesn’t deter him from begging for a second portion, rambling about the source of his exhaustion between gulps of food and oxygen: he went down the valley.

“All the villages you talked about are still there!” He waves his chopsticks as he speaks, spilling mouthfuls of rice onto the kotatsu. Keiji doesn’t even find it distasteful anymore. “I didn’t go in - gods, I wasn’t sure if I’d even recognise a human after all this time, let alone how they’d react to me - but I counted them all. They still have the old shrines outside, too. Most of them are overgrown, but they didn’t tear them down or anything. They don’t hate us, Keiji.”

Keiji had never feared being hated by humans. It hadn’t crossed their mind as a possibility, but even now when they entertain it, it doesn’t bother them. Bokuto is clearly relieved, though, so Keiji is glad. “You didn’t touch them, did you?”

“No! Well, I did pull the weeds off the one I visited, but that’s it. I said a quick prayer too - did you feel it?”

Keiji didn’t, and they’re just as upset to be shaking their head as Bokuto is to see it.

“Maybe because I didn’t leave an offering. Next time.”

Keiji hums, and Bokuto keeps talking as they eat, using his rice to show the curve and fall of the valley. When he falls silent for a beat, no doubt searching for the next anecdote, Keiji swallows before speaking. “I haven’t banned you from my room, you know.”

“What? Oh…” Bokuto laughs, ears drooping as he scratches his nose. There’s soy sauce on it now, and Keiji’s eyes cross, drawn to the stain. “It’s okay, though. You’ve still got to have somewhere that’s yours…”

“You’re not an intruder; this house is too small not to share all of it. Besides, it’s accepted you. You must have felt it.”

Keiji had noticed long before they were ready to admit it. Bokuto’s essence is ingrained in the wood: it creaks in his absence and sighs on his return, eager to hear his laughter and feel Keiji’s spirits lifted. There’s no doubt that Bokuto must have been strengthened by his tie to the land.

“Yeah, but…”

“There’s no ‘but’. I don’t want you to feel out of place. Perhaps we should start referring to it as  _ our _ room, if it will make you feel more welcome…”

It’s meant as a joke, to lighten the mood and put Bokuto at ease, so when Bokuto wriggles in place, almost leaping into the air despite his seated position, Keiji nearly drops their bowl in surprise.

“Really, Akaashi?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I minded.”

Bokuto sings all evening, songs from the forest that Keiji has only heard on his lips, and when night falls he brings his blanket and pillows from under the kotatsu to the foot of Keiji’s futon. They are terrified, but they know that there is no reason to be, so they open their bed to him once more, knowing that this time it is probably for good.

Keiji sleeps more peacefully than they have since the snow storm, and in the morning it feels as if they’ve grown, though their clothes fits the same as ever. Bokuto leaves again straight after breakfast, and this time they aren’t so restless, taking their time with the river cleansing and imagining Bokuto’s adventures near the villages. They think of joining him, but their legs are still sore from the previous day’s wander, and they know they don’t have the strength to leave their shrine anymore.

It’s a wonder Bokuto travelled so far from his own, Keiji thinks. They send a prayer of thanks to the heavens, not sure who to direct it to but grateful all the same.

Even though Bokuto swears he hasn’t spoken to any humans, there’s something at the bottom of the valley that keeps him returning. He still helps Keiji with breakfast, but then he’s gone for the rest of the day, and as Keiji prepares to grow their summer crops, the muscles in Bokuto’s thighs firm and tighten as he wanders the valley. His hands are calloused now, coarse where they once felt soft on Keiji’s shoulders, but it suits him. Keiji themself is feeling stronger by the day, and they’re not sure if it’s due to the growing height of the sun each afternoon or the light of Bokuto’s smile when he returns from a long day of mysterious work.

“Don’t you want to join me? You could see it for yourself,” Bokuto says when Keiji probes him.

“I can’t stray from here - I don’t have enough power.”

Bokuto looks skeptical, but he drops the subject, and Keiji is grateful, because they don’t want to talk about the ache in their bones that had gotten stronger each year before Bokuto arrived as they grew weaker. Even as they think on it, though, they begin to doubt their own words. Keiji knows that they’re too weak to leave the shrine, and yet...they don’t feel that way anymore. Cleansing the river doesn’t leave them weary like it used to, and their newly lonesome afternoons leave them something close to restless. Their energy is spent in their fingers, winding around each other and weaving purposeless magic into the sleeves of their kimono. Eventually they feel wasteful and start channelling extra blessings into the river; at least the villagers can benefit from Keiji’s lack of direction.

Sometimes Bokuto brings sweet breads back from the villages. He insists he hasn’t spoken to anyone, but when Keiji scolds him for stealing he relents, flushing to the tips of his ears which are pressed shamefully to the sides of his head.

“I’ve never been super good at it - not the way you are - but I’ve got enough magic in me to disguise myself. It was a gift from a little girl, I promise. She was adorable…”

There’s nothing that prevents Keiji from eating something that is technically an offering, and the bread tastes good, so they let it lie, but Bokuto catches on to the reasoning more quickly than they’d like.

“You’ve got a sweet tooth!” he laughs, delighted. “We need to grow more strawberries.”

The cool breezes of spring give way to a slow and stifling summer, and Keiji still hasn’t lost that feeling of restlessness. Gathering a flask of water from the river after cleansing it, they decide to test themself one afternoon while Bokuto is away. They wander the circumference of their territory, taking their time to greet plants and animals that they haven’t had the chance to care for up close. Starting with the first tree they can see outside of their bounds, they push themself further, and then further again, and though their legs still ache it is a good pain, one that resonates through them and is filled with magic. When they return home, they are exhausted but exhilarated, and for once Bokuto is the one waiting for Keiji.

“Where have you been, eh?” His foot thumps against the floor. “I missed you.”

Keiji will never understand how Bokuto can speak such truths so simply, without a hint of the vulnerability that Keiji feels whenever they hear them. They want to tell him that they’ve missed him too; that they always do, but they have never been able to match his honesty. Keiji swallows their feelings and smiles instead, stepping inside and brushing their hand against his elbow. 

“I think I might want to go down the valley with you soon,” Keiji says over dinner, during a pause in Bokuto’s chatter. “I...want to see what’s become of my old villages.”

They’re still Keiji’s villages, really, even after all this time, and though they know that no human believes or cares for them anymore, their heart aches for the ones who did. They’re the same blood, and Keiji wants to care for their ancestors as they promised they would.

“Not yet!” Bokuto speaks so quickly that rice sprays across the table from his mouth, ears upright and alert. “I mean - soon is good, but not yet, right?”

“Not at all, if you don’t want me to,” Keiji says with narrowed eyes, doing their best not to sound petulant. It isn’t the reaction they’d been expecting, and they’re a little disappointed. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“I didn’t mean that! I want you to come, it’s just…” Bokuto laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck with his chopsticks before sticking them back in the rice bowl. Keiji can’t believe that they find it endearing. “I’ve started something, and I really want you to see it, but it has to be finished first. It has to be perfect.”

“What are you up to?” Bokuto’s words have done nothing to make them feel at ease, and when he changes the subject rather than defend themself, they allow it with only some resistance. They’re eager to tell him about their own adventure, and sure that Bokuto will tell them when he’s ready. He hasn’t been able to keep a secret from them thus far, after all.

Bokuto cuddles up even closer to them that night, his small frame curled around them as if their proximity directly relates to the appeasement of his guilt. Keiji laughs into his hair as they fall asleep, knowing that he was forgiven before they’d even voiced their suspicion.

Weeks pass in relative harmony, and Keiji’s routine resumes, feeling healthier with each passing summer day. Bokuto’s returns get later, and he looks even more exhausted, but even then there’s something behind that. Maybe it’s the normal effect of exercise, but his thighs are looking stronger and his bounds are even higher, reminding Keiji of the rabbit spirit that he’s always been. 

It’s these bounds that Keiji first notices when Bokuto returns early one afternoon, leaping up the valley when Keiji has only just finished their morning blessings. He isn’t due back for hours, and his pace alarms them, even more so when they notice he’s out of breath. It’s a few moments before he can speak, clinging onto Keiji’s kimono like his life depends on it and pulling at them so much they’re afraid they might fall over.

“Calm down…” they begin and Bokuto squeaks; a noise they’ve only heard once or twice when he’s been too excited to contain himself.

“You have to come with me!” he says, voice hoarse and raised regardless. “Something incredible has happened!”

“Go...where?” Keiji asks, but Bokuto has already begun pulling him down the hills, ignoring their protests that they’re not even wearing  _ shoes _ , and it’s all Keiji can do to stay upright as they run through the trees, further down than Keiji has been since they last spoke with humans.

“So I -” Bokuto begins as they start to near the settlements. Keiji can still recognise the landscape; although a lot has changed, the ridges and furrows of the land feel like home, and they know which village they’re nearing. Bokuto pauses and Keiji takes the chance to force him to stop, allowing him to catch his breath as he braces himself against their shoulder. “Sorry - god, I used to run twice this much...but I’ve been working on something.”

“You told me that,” Keiji points out, and Bokuto looks sheepish. They bite their tongue from making any more remarks, not wanting to put him off by teasing too harshly.

“Yeah, I did. I’ve been - when I came down here, I saw all your old shrines, you know? The little ones people would visit when they couldn’t climb the mountain...and they looked so  _ sad _ , overgrown, but not in the good way, like nature was claiming them, just...forgotten.”

“Like me,” Keiji says. It’s a fact, and Keiji says it as such, but it still stings, even more so when they say it out loud.

“Like...you,” Bokuto agrees reluctantly. “Neither of you should be, though. I mean - those shrines are  _ gorgeous!  _ And you didn’t even build them. Humans built them, and they were letting something they built - something they cherished - rot. I couldn’t stand that. So I’ve been restoring them. I’m good with my hands, you know.”

Keiji isn’t sure why they blush, but they’re grateful that their dark complexion doesn’t reveal it, and Bokuto continues to lead them towards the village obliviously, weaving his way through trees which grow taller and then are abruptly cut down.

“I restored them, and I started putting things in them. Because...I say thank you all the time, and I cook - when I’m not doing this - but it’s not enough, right? It’s not enough to tell you how much you’ve done for me, how much you’ve...become for me. And humans, they used to leave offerings to show their gratitude and to ask for more, so…” he stops abruptly, biting his lip and clenching his fist in their kimono. “I wanted to do that for you.”

“To show your gratitude?” Keiji asks carefully, and Bokuto’s fist tightens a little more before releasing.

“...Yeah. I left sweet fruits, pretty flowers, anything...but people noticed. I didn’t think they would because no one comes out here anymore, but I was almost done, I just needed to do a couple of things, and then today…Well, see for yourself!”

Bokuto has stopped just short of a clearing that is all too familiar to Keiji; it’s one they’ve visited themself, centuries ago, when they were stronger. The shrine that stands there now looks different, but it’s filled with no less love than the old one - more, even - and it fills Keiji with a power and emotion they can’t describe. It stands tall made of clean, roughly carved wood, and at its centre a clumsy dragon cradles a rabbit as if sheltering it from a storm.

Keiji is speechless, so much so that it takes them several minutes to see that it isn’t the shrine that Bokuto was trying to show them. Bokuto thumps his feet, impatient as they stare, and eventually turns their gaze by hand towards the edge of the clearing, where three children stand with a basket of wildflowers. They’re chattering quietly, all pushing each other forward as if scared to take a step further, but eventually they approach the shrine.

“Thank you for watching over us!” they yell, not quite in unison, and Keiji gasps, throat tight and body brimming with the power that surges as they spread the flowers across the base of the shrine. After a long silence, one of the children speaks again, placing a persimmon in the centre of the mess they’ve created.

“Thank you for the water that helped my grandma,” they say, enunciating carefully. “Please look out for her, and for my parents, and for me too. And my friends.”

The latter part is added hurriedly when the child is kicked by one of their counterparts, and Bokuto chuckles next to Keiji. They follow suit. This is more than they’ve seen of humans in eons, and they feel giddy, so much so that they want to rush and take the children in their arms.

“They’re grateful for you!” Bokuto whispers, leaning heavily against Keiji’s side. “They’re worshipping you again. You’re going to be strong.”

As he speaks, his voice gets softer, almost dreamy, and Keiji notes with some distress that his eyes are drooping heavily. They turn, holding out their arms to support him, and he buckles, head pressed sleepily against their chest.

“You’ve pushed yourself,” Keiji says. “Even with the power of the offerings, it isn’t enough yet.”

“What do you mean?” Bokuto slurs, not protesting when Keiji shifts to put him on their back. “The offerings are for you.”

Keiji shakes their head but says nothing as they begin to climb the mountain, feet steady against the soil that feels more their own with each step. They’re strong enough to carry both of them now, thanks to Bokuto’s offerings. The children’s too, of course, but Bokuto is misunderstanding if he thinks the humans are the only source of Keiji’s power. He sleeps for the entire climb, and Keiji isn’t sure that they would be able to tell him if he was awake, but there’s a reason the river’s blessings have become more potent, and it doesn’t reside in Keiji alone. They can’t pinpoint when, but there is no doubt now that the shrine; the land; the villages all belong as much to Bokuto as they do to them, and it’s his love for it all that allowed it to blossom.

When they reach home, Bokuto is snoring softly, and Keiji lays him down on their futon without ceremony, settling down by his side despite their alertness. They might not need to rest, but watching Bokuto is a phenomenon of its own, and they’re content to spend their hours with it.

“Thank you,” they whisper, making a note to take an offering of their own to the shrine. A piece of their pearl, perhaps, if they get strong enough to separate it. “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you talk to me about zodiac bokuaka i will die. find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice) or [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com).


End file.
